Cloudya

Outside I am wash-and-go hair and flip-flops. I am Old Navy T-shirts. I am Joni Mitchell’s “Chelsea Morning”.

Inside…

Inside I am Beck’s “Timebomb”. I am Goldfrapp’s “Strict Machine”. I am a quiet storm waiting, and I go on and on forever.

And sometimes, they meet, the inner and outer me. Sometimes I press my knees together and close my eyes and I rock with their communion. In those moments, I am both a death and a rebirth. I am feathers from ashes.

I am new again.

And I know I taste like joy.